Lost Traces
by nyahchatnoir
Summary: After a terrible accident leaves Marinette unable to remember ever being Ladybug and loving Adrien, it is up to the handsome model to fix his friend, even if it means having to face up to his own demons. Oh, if only he had gotten to her in time. A tale of memories lost, identities uncovered, and withered hearts mended. An Adrienette/Ladynoir fic filled with fluff and adventure.
1. Honeybee

**Hey! Okay, so to be perfectly clear, I really suck at typing these things. I really do; therefore, I am going to make this author note very short and sweet. This is definitely an Adrienette/Ladynoir story with a lot of _humor, drama, and romance_ in it. There will be a bit of other couples such as Alya/Nino, ect. They are a secret at the moment, but I hope that all of you will enjoy my story and review! Everything Miraculous Ladybug does not belong to me. Although, I really wish it did. Nevertheless, I digress. With that said, let's begin! Till next time, mes beaux lecteurs! **

**Oh, and by the way, all of my French is done through Google translate, so please let me know if I publish anything wrong on here. Enjoy!**

 *****edit***** **Also, henceforth, each of these chapters will be named after a certain song that I** **have randomly heard while driving to and from the hellhole which is college that reminds me of our favorite couple. Thus, the name of this chapter is 'Honeybee,' a sweet song by Steam Powered Giraffe... So yeah, this is a definite way for me to come up with a few cool chapter titles. Plus, you readers can check out some great new songs which will give you the feels, so everyone wins!~**

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Ch 1. Honeybee 

"I know that I heard it from somewhere," Ladybug heard herself say, as she propped an apprehensive hand against the thick, wrought iron lattice of Paris' famous Eiffel Tower. Her fingers tightened around the rock-hard iron, and she instantly tensed from her stance beside Chat Noir. The thin cat-boy in question only swiveled his head toward her, his blond spikes flying around him, before he furrowed his brows and gazed unsurely around himself.

"It was in this direction," Chat declared confidently, throwing up a claw, before he gave Ladybug a slightly confused look. Gradually, his glove fell back down to his side, "Well, at least, I think it was, anyway. I think we're close."

An abrupt, extremely loud scream suddenly sounded in the very near distance, and Ladybug felt a thin, almost inaudible buzz of frustration build in her throat. She scowled deeply and swung her neck toward her partner.

"You think?" Ladybug shot the retort at her partner and sent him as a sarcastic look.

Readying the red and black polka-dotted compact yo-yo within her palm, the superhero immediately reached for the waist of the male beside her and pulled him in close; her form became protecting and securely wrapped around him, as she yelled, "Sounds like it came from the Louvre!"

"Y-Yeah, sure," Chat fumbled out a reply. His sharp green eyes widened instantly, and his entire form froze upon contact. Simply the weight of her touch, the feel of her hip against his, sent a light hammering throughout his chest, and an incredibly warm but welcomed emotion formed. His palms grew shaky yet he was perfectly okay with her near proximity. Feeling a thick blush start to creep over his features, the teen mentally gasped. It was not until he heard the panicked yelps of around a hundred different citizens that he was prompted to wrap his arms tightly around his companion for the pair's descent. Swiftly, he rested his head upon her shoulder and latched his legs firmly around hers.

"Time to go," cried Chat Noir, as Ladybug speedily threw the device, and she used it to swing them downward from their stance high above the city of Paris. Landing upon a nearby apartment building, Chat precariously let go of Ladybug and blew out the breath that he had been unknowingly holding. The male instantly blushed, watching her stuff the yo-yo into the pack around her waist. The teen had to fight off the sudden urge to make a pass at her – "Wow, I had no idea you swung that way for me" – as he drew out his dark baton and turned it into a lengthy staff; the duo immediately broke out into an urgent sprint.

"Meet you there!" cried Ladybug, as she broke off from Chat in order to take an easily accessible rout.

The cat in question merely gave her a noncommittal thumbs up, as he used his staff to make a huge lunge across the rooftop. Across from him, gaining speed, his little Ladybug ran fast and hopped sensibly forth, her hasty movements causing her to flitter rapidly from building to building; contrasting this, the male slunk forward with every dashing leap. He almost grinned through his urgency, once more feeling the freedom of the cool, crisp wind splashing against his moderately warmed cheeks. His emerald eyes sparkled with life, as he used his staff as leverage to force every jump higher, thus his pace was much faster than his companion.

Without looking back, the two pressed on; they left the Eifel Tower standing awe-inspiringly tall behind them, like a bright beacon in the dark, as it watched quietly over the citizens of Paris. The image of it was beautifully regal, as its stance remained great and proud. It symbolized the strength of Paris; in that aspect, it was a lot like the charm of both Ladybug and Chat Noir. If the two of them unaccompanied could take on the evildoers of Paris, then there was no telling what the city's _people_ could do if they all banned together.

"Atta, cat!" Chat cried, finally coming to a foreseen stop.

The cat-boy was the first to make it to the rooftop of the Musee du Louvre, and he queerly looked down. Standing beneath him, incredibly horror stricken and wide-eyed, was the forms of approximately a hundred confused civilians. Each was covered in paint from head to toe, and many were on the brink of screaming. A few of the people were testily wiping at their faces, while some were wiping away at themselves furiously, outwardly weeping in agony. One child even cried out to his mother in immense pain, as he attempted to wipe away at the thick acrylic goop that was now seeping heavily from his eyes. Blinking dangerously, the kid's injured voice entered Chat's ears, and the cat bared his teeth dangerously at the villain.

His dark ears fell flat to his head. "M-Maman, I can't see! It hurts!"

The whimpering pain coming from the unknown child made Chat Noir feel inexplicably angry. Sure, the akumas were usually bad. At first, they always were, but rarely anyone ever got truly hurt. No one screamed out in agony. Still, the sound of little boy who wept through paint covered eyes – it absolutely infuriated him! The superhero felt his claws begin to glow a threatening green by his side. God, this never-ending fighting needed to end! Ultimately, this was a war between the holders of the Miraculous and the one called Hawk Moth; the hosts of the Akuma were merely pawns in Hawk Moth's scheming. However, no one was to be harmed except for him and Ladybug. No outsiders were to be put through this.

Chat's eyes narrowed in pure hatred. The teen was tired of the constant attacks, everything, all of the unnecessary involvement. No citizen should get hurt on _their_ account. He and Ladybug could defend themselves, but regular humans without protection could not; no one besides him and Ladybug held a Miraculous, and these otherwise innocent people were susceptible to the alluring attraction of the Akumas. Hawk Moth's fluttering, immaculate promises. Each one was spoken out of hate but sensibility, and in his soothing words, Hawk Moth would allegedly agree with the host's pain. His voice would croon that it was perfectly okay to live with such strong feelings of animosity. Once the doubt was placed there, Hawk Moth knew that he had a host's heart. At that juncture, he would feed those feelings with a single, authoritative promise. A false promise which would fill the host's heart with a sense of false hope. Most people were susceptible to the promise of hope. **Benefit and power. Revenge and eternal happiness.**

The newly darkened Akuma had finally found its home.

Chat felt his resolve harden, as he stood face to face with the possessed figure of a colorfully dressed man before him. The male's features were distorted into a Picasso-like montage of differently sized shapes. The image was odd and a bit frightening, but through the man's minor details, the cat immediately recognized the owner of the grotesque face as the portrait of an artist who was usually found selling street paintings around the Bois de Boulogne, a park that he was indeed familiar with; the landscape's warm setting was often used as a backdrop for many of his summer photoshoots. Behind him, swinging herself elegantly onto the roof, his lady took a defiant stance. She sent him a charming smirk, and he mentally gushed out of happiness. Mentally thriving from the knowledge of her presence, a strong sense of reassurance surged through his whole body, and the cat allowed a maddening grin to overtake his features.

"Oh, you'll pay for this," Chat hatefully muttered beneath his barred teeth.

Ladybug pointed heatedly with her left hand towards the evildoer and threw her other arm down to her side to grab her yo-yo. Tightening her fingers around the small object, she yelled, "It's all over now, Le Peintre! We saw what you've been doing to the Louvre's priceless paintings!"

"Yeah, it's time to clean out your brushes and put a stop to all of this!" Chat nodded from in front of her and readied himself to make an attack, looking back to check for her signal to move forward. She merely shifted her head to the left slightly, rebutting his movements. Not yet, her eyes spoke with conviction.

" _But I'm so ready, my lady,"_ Adrien heard his mind whine out of frustration; the want for retribution was almost killing him, _"So ready!"_

The villain raised the gigantic paint brush arrogantly within his hands and laughed darkly, giving them a cruel sneer. A threatening, ominous multicolored glow instantly began to emit from the brush's soaking tip; a few heavy droplets of thick, acrylic ooze dripped leisurely from its poised bristles, lamely landing in dense puddles upon the roof. The villain aimed the weapon forebodingly toward the two superheroes.

"Tut-tut! Not before I finish my finest work, mon cher Ladybug! I shall prevail, you see, because unlike you, I do my job with heart!"

The artist's proclamation was met with a gruff laugh, and a cheerful yell broke through the tension.

"Woo-hoo! Go get him, Ladybug!"

Both Chat Noir and Ladybug blinked and turned to stare precipitously at the confident yet wide-eyed stare of their friend Alya. She smiled a toothy beam, completely awestruck as always, and waved energetically up at them. The spirited blogger had no idea of the pair's identity, and honestly, neither the two of them were clueless about that as well; the duo's secrets were a thick, rarely mentioned wall which continuously sat, never broken and duly wedged between the crime fighting couple. Nevertheless, in the end, Chat was okay with that, for Ladybug was the one who he looked to make the final call. She _was_ his lady, after all.

Eventually noticing the weight of their combined stares, Alya directly flushed and stuttered, "O-Oh, yeah! And you too, Chat. Of course."

From beneath his mask, Adrien rose an inquisitive brow. Then, he gave Alya a well-meaning shrug and grinned, turning to regard Ladybug with a faithful stare. He blinked confusedly. An intense look of fear shone in his friend's bright blue orbs, and she swiveled to glare heatedly at their enemy. A buzzing growl echoed from her throat, and her stance tightened; the way the man was raising his brush toward Alya sent the raven-haired heroine into an absolute frenzy.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ladybug moved to throw her yo-yo at the offending weapon and slapped it easily out of the villain's hands. Angrily furrowing her brows, the hero leapt forward and yelled back to her companion, "Go protect Alya! Take her far from here; I've got this artiste!"

"Right!" Chat immediately agreed, and he made a split decision to fully trust his lady. His only hope was that she could handle the fight on her own, as he started off into a rapid sprint. The teen quickly turned his staff back into a small baton. Letting out a wild meow, he stuck the baton in the holder around his waist, hopped down from the high rooftop, and leapt swiftly toward Alya. The girl in question merely blinked as he approached her, feeling completely dumbfounded when he dutifully wrapped his arms around her waist. As he cradled her securely to his chest, the dark skinned female grinned. Alya found herself feeling unexpectedly thrilled that she was being included in the fight, even if she was apologetic for stupidly pulling herself into the fray.

"Sorry," the russet eyed teen mumbled, as she scrunched her shoulders in a fusion of half embarrassment and half excitement. She continued to hold onto the phone in her hands, while Chat Noir ran, accidentally bouncing her form against his chest.

Feeling generous, the male merely beamed and chuckled, before gazing graciously down at her and jeering, "No problem, kiddo."

Instantly, Alya grinned but let out a moderately haughty laugh. She made herself comfortable in his arms, replying, "Kiddo? Wow, Chat Noir, we're the same age! Probably… Anyways, since I've got you here, you got anything to say to the blog?"

"Not at the moment," Chat huffed, grinning a little at Alya's never-ending search for answers. He immediately countered her words by asking, "Got any questions from the message boards?"

Chat would never tell her that he liked to frequent the Ladyblog daily. Sometimes, the sneaky cat's other persona would even come up with his own little quips, questions, and theories, if only to get the fandom riled up every once in a while. It was hilarious and slightly embarrassing to see all of the things that random people were willing to mention on them; the fan art could sometimes get… very disturbing, to say the least.

Alya instantly perked up and used her nimble fingers to expertly open the notes section in her cellphone, "Actually, I do!"

Chat Noir jumped up onto a building and ran across the rooftops of Paris. Not out of breath in the slightest, he chuckled out a suave, "Lay them on me, then."

"Any new crushes?"

"Nope!"

Alya frowned but pulled on a sneaky smile.

"Hmm... Can you at least give us a teeny _tiny_ hint about your identity?"

Chat smirked down at her and replied, "That is a negative Ghostrider."

"Drat. Okay, Last question," Alya responded, as she suddenly held her phone a tad closer to her chest. She watched curiously, as Chat Noir jumped off a building and came to a sudden stop beside a gigantic flower bush. Once he was finished running, she gave him a final mischievous beam

"I'm sure you already know what I want to ask, but The Ladybuggers desperately want to know. Are there any updates that you can give us on the 'Ladybug X Chat Noir relationship' issue?"

"Well, I can tell you this," Chat Noir grinned affectionately, while he went to place Alya carefully on the ground, "My lady is curt and unrelenting with a delicious side of cold."

As Alya found her footing, he jokingly continued, "Basically, I have a big pile of nothing!"

"Riiiiight," Alya leered cryptically, before she happily chirped, "Got it!"

She smiled out of fondness for the superhero and laughed outright when he hurriedly nodded, giving her a tiny, two-finger salute. She waved once more at him when he turned to sprint back in the direction he had just seconds before been running from.

"Thanks, Chat!" Alya called out to his retreating form. The teen grinned hopefully in his wake and eagerly continued, "Don't worry, I know that she'll cave in soon! I believe in you! Fight!"

Once Chat was out of sight, Alya immediately went to work on her phone, typing out a huge, black headline with an image of Ladybug staring horrified down at her. She put **'Fiasco de la Picasso!'** as the heading and began to type out her Ladyblog exclusive. A bright, sun shiny grin overtook her round features; oh yes, she would always be the number one Ladyblogger in the world. The teen was _sure_ of it! Besides, the people of Paris needed her, and Alya was only too happy to oblige their curiosity.

"I want all of Paris to see my artwork! He-he!"

"Come on, give it up! It's all over now, Painter!"

"Hmm, do you know what I think?"

"I think you are beautiful, mon cher. With your beautiful blue eyes and your flowing dark hair, you are sure to be nothing but an absolute masterpiece!"

"Let me paint you a portrait."

As Chat Noir was running hastily towards the Louvre, he felt a bolt of fear run down his spine, as a shrill scream inexplicably sounded in the far off distance. No, it did not sound like Ladybug; he knew her voice without a doubt, therefore Chat could tell that it was a civilian, but he could not help it when the frightening noise forced him to accelerate his leaping. Forming his baton into a lengthy staff, he lunged onto a nearby rooftop. The cat-boy narrowed his brows and mentally berated himself. Now that he was running back to Ladybug, he did not want his lady to be on her own for one more second. It was utterly nerve-wracking; the sudden extreme hammering in his chest. Just because the two of them were in their superhero forms, it did not mean that he and his lady were not susceptible to being injured. Quite the contrary, actually.

Chat grit his teeth in frustration, as the ring around his finger abruptly beeped. Another scream had him glancing upward and skidding to a sudden halt at what he saw. The teen's arm came out impulsively, and his mind ran into overdrive, as his legs precipitously began to move faster than they had ever before. Tears were already welling up in the corners of the cat's eyes, as he sprinted forward, desperately wishing that time would pause. No. No! Chat needed to get close to her; he had to! Frantically panting, the boy let out a single scream, as his eyes witnessed a sight that he had never wanted to see, not in a thousand lifetimes as Chat Noir.

"Ladybug, no!"

Chat's cry came out as a deafening roar, as he watched her fall from a hard blow to the stomach; the villain must have managed to take her yo-yo away from her. Thus, his Ladybug was totally defenseless, and it was all his fault. Everything was his fault. The cat could only watch on with tearful, terrified emerald eyes, as the dank substance suddenly splattered against her frame, and everything seemed to move as if in slow motion. Falling and falling into himself, Chat stared on in horror, as she unconsciously allowed gravity to carry her down, down, down. The teen sucked in a shocked gasp and chocked on his own breath when she landed with a dull thud on the hard pavement below. A faint glow seemed to protrude from Ladybug's form upon impact, yet besides that, the masked woman laid unmoving on the ground.

" _She's dead!"_ Chat Noir's thoughts screamed at him all at once, _"Oh my god, Plagg. She's dead!"_

Adrien could feel Plagg mentally comforting him, as he skid to a halt beside her, immediately falling to his knees by her immobile form. The welling tears escaped him and fell down his downtrodden cheeks. He stilled, deftly leaning down to desperately check for her breathing. Listening with a careful ear, the cat was instantly relieved to find that his lady's breaths were thankfully even; however, her pulse was quickly weakening.

His words were a choked sob, "No, please, wake up mon cher! My lady, please!"

A small, feeble beep came from her ring, and Chat's fingers gripped mildly around her frame. The fact was official; the cat's lady, his little Ladybug, was coming ever-so dangerously close to changing back into her normal form. Chat could not see her; not like this. Despite his want for learning the truth about her actual identity, the teen was understanding whenever it came to Ladybug's desires. Yet, if her true identity was to be discovered in front of so many people – No. It was vital that his lady not be discovered. No matter his feelings, the cat-disguised man wanted her to be happy and comfortable when it came to revealing her true self to him. The cat wanted her to admit her secret to him on her own accord with no outside intrusions; just her and him, as it always should be.

Nevertheless, Chat Noir believed in allowing Ladybug the privacy she desired, even if it hurt him whenever he thought about her during the night. The fact that she wanted their identities to remain a secret made an ample amount of sense to him; however, the cat was certainly not happy about it, and his other identity, Adrien, was not happy with it either. Truthfully, perhaps he was being selfish for wanting to know her identity. To take a closer step towards her heart, and to finally understand her. That is all Chat Noir wished for.

In contrast, Ladybug's single wish was for the two of them, along with their families and friends, to remain safe – well, heh, as relatively safe as one could possibly be while remaining in the seemingly peaceful but completely chaotic city of Paris. Its beauty – along with a cast of surprising villains – was definitely a sight to behold; it was a fact that many unsuspecting tourists were allured to the city by the breathtaking face of Paris. Nevertheless, they would get swept along, as well, in its disarray. Paris, a city of want and destruction. The look of it all inspired its citizen, but did it failed to blind the two superheroes, Chat Noir and Ladybug. Still, the two thrived in it.

Chat sniffled, "D-Don't worry, Ladybug!"

The boy wrapped himself securely around her unconscious, slightly glowing form.

"I've got you," his voice came out as a soft whisper, before the teen directly regarded the people standing around him. He piercingly yelled, "Is there a doctor around here? Please!"

"M-Me," a tentative Frenchwoman came forward and carefully reached for Ladybug's head. With a pair of worried green eyes, the short haired, blonde headed woman hurriedly continued, "Although, I'm just a doctor in pediatrics, so I'm not sure if I can do much for her at the moment..." she gently broke off at Chat Noir's tears and said, "But I will try."

The cat smiled sadly, and an immensely grateful sheen entered his orbs. He knew that pretty much everyone in Paris knew of Ladybug and Chat Noir's constant efforts to protect them from the forces of evil; it made him swell with gratitude to know that there were people willing to help them fight the good fight.

"Merci, madam," Chat quickly whispered, before shooting up from his spot like a rocket. The man stood stalk still, as his shoulders started to shake with a concentrated rage. His blonde head hung toward the ground, a dark shadow forming for a short, muted moment, and he stared sharp daggers at the stiff concrete beneath him. Then, his teeth bared; a livid mewl left his throat.

Like a quick bolt of lightning, Chat Noir's form shot forward. He let out a rough hiss, as he used the force of his anger to punch a mighty hole in the ground with his staff. Pushing down, the teen flung himself upward and fired himself onto the rooftop. The male landed in a haphazard mess upon descent, mentally cursing his bad luck, and forced himself into a firm position athwart from the Technicolor villain. With his movements full of passion, Chat immediately sprang into action. A terrible, blazing fire overtly radiated in the depths of his eyes. His orbs burned with a conical green fervor; the look of hate within them was made greater by the astute nature of his strict, feline appearance. The enemy immediately felt his heart quicken out of fear.

Turning as if he were about to dash, Le Peintre stopped cold for a split moment. Within his deformed ears, a mad, erratic fluttering noise sounded, and the cold voice of Hawk Moth completely flooded his senses.

" _What are you_ _ **doing**_ _, Peintre?"_ The mastermind eerily demanded; a new cruelness settled in his tone, _"Run! Go forth and take Ladybug's Miraculous!"_

The Painter barely dogged Chat Noir's movements, as the cat-boy came flying towards him.

"B-But," the Painter softly quaked to the voice inside his head, "What if I can't do it?"

The hesitant anti-hero shot a sudden blast of paint in the lead's direction, to which Chat Noir merely jumped out of the way, laughing heartlessly out loud and whirling his body into a lithe, supple barrel roll. The teen stopped on impact when he collided with a random generator; a painful groan escaped his lips.

A shaken threat left the cat when he went to sorely pick himself up, "Y-You'll pay for this, evil Akuma."

Chat Noir knew that time was running out for Ladybug; his companion had but two minutes left until she shifted back into her normal form, if the cat was lucky, which… honestly, the teen was usually not. He had to hurry! Moving to make another sprint toward the artist, he felt his heart quicken when the second striking sound of beep called his attention down to his ring. Apparently he did not have long either. Chat Noir's movements became panicked, as his mind began to run into overdrive.

Chat Noir narrowed his brows and pursed his lips at the sound. He turned his head back to his assailant and gazed heatedly in his direction.

"You did this to Ladybug!" the cat called out, immediately remembering the wounded expression which had covered her beautiful comatose face. The image filled him with an insatiable anger, and he hatefully continued, "Better suddenly get stronger painter."

The eerie threat on Chat's lips made him smirk wildly, and he ominously extended his claws out to the enemy, "Because you're paint is about to get chipped!"

" _Careful Adrien!"_ He instantly heard Plagg speak within his mind, " _Don't lose your cool. Ladybug is alright, but your identities are at stake! Be careful!"_

However, as Chat Noir, there was no time to be careful. There was no time for wary; no thinking, only action.

"CATACLYSM!" Chat yelled out of sheer anger. The cat loped forward, deftly shooting a thick wave of green-black toward the villain's brush, as he sprinted along the length of the evildoer's weapon. The obtuse object shook, as the miniaturist held the armament within his misshapen, triangle-like hands; the teen fervently poisoned the brush with all of his strength, and the scoundrel could only look down in astounded horror, as the gigantic brush seemed to hastily evaporate within his grasp. He stole a hasty breath, as Chat hopped past him to grab the square beret sitting upon his head. He stared with wide eyes, as the cat hurriedly ripped at the offending cloth in abhorrence, all too happily pulling it into a pair of separate pieces.

Chat watched the pieces of the hat fall, as a dark butterfly seemed to emerge from the beret's fabric; suddenly, the cat had no idea what to do with it. Gazing as it quickly began to flutter away, he reached for the offending creature and held it close to his chest.

"Oh, no you don't!" he cried, unsure as of what to do now. Usually, this was the moment where Ladybug would purify the Akuma and use her magic to fix all of the havoc that the vile creature had created, but since she was currently out of commission – Chat's gaze traveled back down to where Ladybug lay in the Doctor's arms, and he gripped the black butterfly tighter, "No, absolutely not! After all of the fuss you made, do you actually think I would ever let you go?"

The cat easily hopped off the roof and ran toward the Doctor, leaving behind a dumbstruck villain. Lost in his search for the recognition he believed he deserved, the painter fell hollowly to his knees. Hawk Moth merely growled cruelly within his thoughts. By now, the connection between him and the host was usually broken, but now that Ladybug was out of the picture, he was free to speak; he revealed in a chance to berate his henchman's failure.

" _To think that I believed in you,"_ the man hatefully leered, _"You're nothing to them; totally useless! To think I thought you were capable of doing anything – You're nothing. Your art isn't art. It's merely trash. Fucking trash."_

"No," the painter softly whispered, "No, it's not; it's a whole part of me! I believe in it-"

" _Do you know why they never sell?"_ The voice in his head zealously questioned about his artwork, _"Because no one likes it. True, there is an old aphorism that says 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder' …but what does it say about_ _ **you**_ _when everyone's eye seems to only want to look away?"_

The painter let his arms fall down to the ground, and he wept into his fingers, crying, "Stop it! You're wrong, you're wrong!"

The sound of his weeping fueled Hawk Moth, as he only laughed, further forcing the man's soul to recede into the darkness. Perhaps the voice was right. Perhaps he was garbage…

Chat stopped before the doctor with a hurried pant, making sure to place the Akuma in the tight space between his arm and bicep. He immediately crept down beside her, hastily reaching for Ladybug's lame form. He found a little comfort in the fact that she breathed slowly yet evenly under his hands, and he sent the doctor a thankful glance. The woman gave him a kind smile and gently patted his shoulder. Her eyes shown with a certain comradery; she knew that what Chat was doing was especially important, and she was happy to help him and Ladybug in any way she could. The cat tightened his grip around Ladybug's back and gently lifted the brunt of her weight against his body. He scowled out of frustration, as the ring on his right hand beeped a final time.

"Gotta go," the superhero said, as he cradled his beloved tenderly to his abs. Hurriedly dashing off, the teen called over his shoulder, "Merci, merci, mademoiselle!"

The woman in question only blinked and placed an embarrassed hand over her blonde forehead. A couple of thin, pretty golden-yellow threads fell over her bright green eyes, and she smiled, "Au revoir, monsieur Chat Noir!"

The doctor could not help but beam widely, as he leaped heroically away, "Au revoir…"

Running faster with every footfall, Chat Noir huffed in exhaustion, as he was about to transform back. Without thinking, he glanced worriedly downward at the woman in his arms and tightened his hold around her. Looking up, he instinctively dove behind a large bush, as her body began to glow a blindingly bright light. The cat landed with a painful thud; his face skid across the sharp grass, but he held taut to the precious gem in his clinch. He felt relief flood him when he felt the Akuma's touch; the little butterfly continued to sit in an indignant silence, noiselessly wedged between his underarm and suit. The teen gave a tired sigh, as he felt the bubbly feeling of Plagg stripping himself away from Adrien's body.

The black, cat-like kwami promptly made an exhausted face. He fell from the top of Adrien's blonde locks and landed on the ground in pure exhaustion. His mouth open and closed repeatedly; he wearily placed a paw upon his protruding tummy, before saying, "Hungry. So very hungry."

Plagg's voice came out as a sniveling whine, but Adrien paid his friend's griping the sparest of mind. Instead, he focused his emerald orbs on the form of the broken girl before him. They widened in shock and confusion, before a strong sense of protection filled them. There was no time for wondering; no time for questions. There was only time for action.

As the human boy moved to pick up her body, he stilled when a high-pitched voice instantaneously sounded from behind him.

"Adrien?" it gasped in a squeaky tremor, "Y-You're Chat Noir?"

The teen in question blinked slowly, progressively feeling his heart hammer in his chest, and he turned to observe the owner of the stunned words. His handsome green eyes widened in added surprise.

Choking out a response, he accidentally let the Akuma escape his hold, "B-Black and red? L-Ladybug… you must her be her kwami, right?"

The tiny kwami shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and paused. Then, she suddenly nodded, knowing that he rapid shaking was confusing.

"I'm T-Tikki," the kwami stuttered out, her eyes moving upwards to follow the freed Akuma. She shot upward in order to wrap her arms around the petite creature, and a timid light emerged from her chest. Then, the thin light spread out across all of Paris. As Tikki's grasp lessened its hold around the Akuma, the purified butterfly optimistically fluttered from her embrace. It fluttered high into the gradually brightening sky; hopefully now that it was set free, the kwami's weak light would go on to spread peace and care. Her essence would help to retract Hawk Moth's destruction.

"TiTikki," Adrien swallowed down his own trepidation and glanced down at the black kwami by his feet. He awkwardly mumbled, "Well, this is Plagg. He likes cheese."

Ladybug's tuckered out kwami gently fluttered down to the ground in a fatigued heap and weakly chuckled, "No, my name is Tikki! Not TiTikki, he-he. Ah, I am so hungry and tired."

Adrien's orbs immediately widened, and he moved to pick up the worn-out kwami. He tenderly tucked her within his arms, laying her against Marinette's sleeping chest. He then picked up Plagg and positioned him beside the tuckered-out ladybug kwami. He watched with kind eyes, as Tikki smiled weakly over to Plagg, and a thin blush formed across the black kwami's flushed cheeks. It was easy to see that the two of them were definitely pooped out.

"Hey there," the red and black spotted kwami spoke warmly. Her manner held an extremely gentle lilt, as she gazed toward Plagg. The female's gentility shown in the kindness of her chipper tone when she tentatively whispered, "It's been a while, huh?"

Plagg flushed from his place beside her and let out an embarrassed grunt. Feeling outright drained, the reddened kwami cheekily replied, "Yep, and by your face it's apparent that you missed me."

Tikki merely giggled out a little song and trilled, "In your dreams, little kitty cat."

A lazy meow was Plagg's only response, as Adrien went to stick a shaking hand into his pocket. Worriedly grabbing his cellphone, the male easily ignored the pair's soft-spoken jeers and started to click on his phone.

"I-I'm gonna call an ambulance for her," Adrien's voice came out hurried and ragged, as he specifically chose not to use Ladybug's real name. He simply could not utter; at least, at this moment the thought seemed impossible. It was crazy who her true identity was. The poor teen could barely believe it when he placed the cellphone hurriedly by his ear, "Yes, 911? I-I need to report an accident. I-It's my friend."

As Adrien listened to the operator speak in a calm, authoritative voice, he began to blink his eyes uncontrollably, as he allowed his honest bottle green orbs to slowly fill with tears. Their sheen brightened out of sheer pain, so much so, that two thick streams of salty wet tears eventually began to fall down his ample, paled cheeks. He could not control the sob which escaped him, as he held the girl he had cared for under the mask for so long; it had nothing to do with her beauty or the allure of her mysterious nature. Ladybug's generous and sweet heart was what had attracted him to her as both Chat Noir and Adrien. Now that he knew her secret – Adrien was not entirely sure what he felt. Still, he knew that he cared deeply for the raven-haired mademoiselle in his arms. She was his lady. He was devoted to her soul.

"Si, yes. Si, madam. Merci and… p-please hurry."

As the phone call ended, Adrien dropped the phone and mentally broke down. He fell desperately to his knees. Mumbling her name on his lips, the blonde headed teen let his tears land in her hair, a few dripping on her face. Caressing the cheek, once hidden behind a mask, which he had yearned to caress for years, the teen murmured a list of sweet nothings, and he leaned close to her unconscious ear. True, the male now knew her secret – but at what cost? Ladybug's life? If that was the price, then Adrien could have lived without putting his best friend through this – this pain.

"It's all my fault," Adrien cried into her auricle, beginning to feel his heart break. Under the weight of her seemingly lifeless hug, he visibly shuddered to his core and held her as close as he could bring her without breaking her, "Mon cher, I'm the one to blame."

Sniffling, the poor fellow sobbed, "I'm so sorry, Marinette."

* * *

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	2. Because You Live

**Hey everyone! It's been a little while because of college, but here is the next chapter. The name for this chapter is "Because You Live," a pretty song by Jessie McCartney. Check it out if you'd like! Anyway, nothing in this story belongs to me, and I hope to see a few more reviews in my inbox after this, lol. Enjoy!~**

* * *

Ch 2. Because You Live

Adrien held onto Marinette's lame form, as he gawked down at the small form of Tikki sitting calmly upon his shoulder. He drew in a deep, concerned breath.

"A-Are you sure?" Adrien muttered in apprehension, rapidly becoming uncertain of what the tiny fluttering creature had just told him, "So, you're telling me that you will _definitely_ return to the earrings?"

"Ya know," he found himself questioning her in awkward realization, "L-Like how Plagg does whenever I take my ring off?"

The miniature, red and black fairy merely giggled and nodded in simple affirmation.

She beamed softly, and a tender, gentle promise left her lips, as she gazed into the depths of his worried green orbs, "Oh, don't you worry, Adrien. I'll be okay! As long as you watch over the earrings, no harm should come to me. However-"

Tikki gave herself a small frown and made a pair of concerned dark eyes at Plagg.

"While I _will_ be fine in my neutral state," her voice came out serious, "It is imperative that you give them back to Marinette as soon as possible."

Adrien's eyes filled with concern, as he gave her a queer expression, pursing his lips in trepidation and brokenly asking, "But how will it affect Marinette? If she finds out now-"

"She doesn't have to know!" Tikki immediately brightened, although a certain sadness hid behind those pretty blue depths, "At least, not _yet_ , anyway. My existence must remain a secret; however, we should definitely give her some time to heal before we inexplicably thrust this kind of responsibility upon her… Oh, my poor Marinette."

Tears brimmed within Tikki's ocean blue orbs, and she allowed herself a teeny, trilling little sob.

"You'll have to get her to trust you, so that she will wear them. Give them to her; do whatever you have to do, and I shall be able to take form and help you with any Akumas that should arise. I can easily see Hawk Moth using Ladybug's condition to his advantage. I will not be able to do as much good without Marinette's selfless power, but I can try. For her, I will try."

"Oh…" Adrien felt any arguments that he had die upon his tongue, and he gazed forlornly at the despairing kwami before him. He watched with sad orbs, as her miniature shoulders shook inaudibly. Tenderly, the teen moved his hand across her head in understanding and gently brought his forefinger back and forth, consolingly rubbing her crown. Watching her sniffle from under his touch, the adolescent felt his resolve instantaneously harden. Whispering under his breath, he pledged, "Don't worry, Tikki. I'll make sure that Marinette wears you. I can't protect people without your help. She'll understand one day, I'm sure of it."

Sniveling, Tikki lifted her head and gaped up at Adrien with welcome eyes. Her millennia old smile sent a warm wave of confident protectiveness over him, and the boy felt moderately floored by how much he suddenly cared about the tiny fairy facing him. It was official; the teen would protect this little kwami, and in turn, Marinette would stay safe. He simply had to.

Tikki allowed a low, tired sigh. The fairy felt hungry, but her overwhelming need to preserve the citizens of Paris had her nodding one last time at Adrien. Smiling somnolently, the downtrodden kwami directed Plagg with a melancholic stare, and he swallowed, as his human moved to resignatedly pull off the sleeping Marinette's red and black spotted earrings.

Adrien's fingers worked carefully around her earlobes, eerily conscious of her dead-to-the-world soul. The human took in a heartbreaking breath, determinedly at work on Marinette's ears. Behind him, Plagg visibly deflated under the weight of Tikki's observation. He could not grin any longer; he did not feel like making anymore jokes. The black kwami could only give her a feeble wave in response, while he watched in mild downheartedness, as Tikki let out a weak statement.

Her words came out in an almost silent prayer. "Goodbye for now… dear friend."

Right away, Plagg stilled. The poor kwami felt a soundless mewl of regret burst forth from the reaches of his gullet, as he witnessed the second earring fall into the well-being of his charge's palm. He flickered his electric eyes and paled considerably. Suddenly, the fairy felt as if he could barely breathe, watching the usually chipper and outgoing red and black fairy get sucked out of the waking world completely. His heart started to beat erratically, and he immediately looked away. With a temperate sigh, the male unenthusiastically pocketed the silent earrings. He stared hopelessly down at Marinette's sleeping form, and his brows furrowed. The boy could only imagine what was going on behind those closed eyelids; then, he allowed his heart to sink, as the teen waited sullenly for an emergency rescue team to arrive.

Beside him, Plagg's eyes closed when his human's attention was not on him. The distraught kwami let his head fall in a low, soundless image of despair.

" _This is just like that_ _ **other**_ _time! History is repeating,"_ briskly, Plagg's memory pegged at his thoughts, and the fairy promptly labeled his reminisces as being incredibly dangerous, _"Oh my god. Please, Adrien; help her, please!"_

Adrien could barely control himself when the ambulance arri

* * *

ved. The teen had stuck both Plagg and Tikki into the folds of his jacket, mere seconds before the emergency respondents came to a grinding halt on the curb near were the bush sat. He had been there for about thirty-five minutes now; his tears were already spent by the time the nurses went to maneuver his friend.

"I-Is she going to be okay?" Adrien asked timidly. As the teen eagerly pressed on for answers, the lack of response from the emergency team was doing more to him than he liked, "D-Do you know what's going on with her; w-what's wrong?"

A man currently hurrying to secure her onto a stretcher let out an irritated sigh and sent the kid a gruff expression. On impact, his eyes softened at the worried sheen in the blonde's orbs. He sighed again, much kinder this time, and moved to carefully push Marinette's stretcher onto the ambulance's ramp. Behind him, he called, "There's no telling at the moment."

Adrien took a weary step forward, and the man dutifully continued on.

"We will have to examine her on the way to the hospital, but she appears to be breathing fine now, and her vital signs seem alright. However, the true weight of the trauma cannot be decided until a surgeon can look at her responses up close; how this will affect her depends purely on how far and how hard she fell."

"Although," the man said, his voice bowing into a moderately compassionate lilt, "I'm sure that we can give you a more guaranteed riposte if you ride with us."

Upon hearing the man's invitation, Adrien's orbs widened into two immensely grateful saucers. Even if Chat Noir had not been for her, the human boy was damned if he was not going to be by her side. The fact that he did not end up having to yell and fight for a spot in the ambulance van forced a relieved beam to overtake his features.

"Merci, monsieur!" the teen cried, and he tentatively hurried into the back, seemingly square-shaped section of the large white medic van. The boy sat down on a nearby stationary seat and allowed his green eyes to gaze forlornly at the sleeping teenager before him. God, she was so beautiful; she looked like a slumbering angel when her eyes were closed like that. His mind instantly shot back to the moment her thin body hit the ground, a bright light enveloping her. He instantly felt like crying again.

The boy just wished that the reason for her dead to the world state was different; that the past could somehow be distanced from what had actually occurred. Anything – absolutely anything – was better than this painful uncertainty nestling inside his gut. The teen's forehead crinkled in frustration. For a moment, he desperately wished that he was not alive. Perhaps then his lady – his Marinette – would not have suffered at the hands of his offhanded negligence.

Adrien eyed her gently heaving chest. With every gentle breath, the male felt like crying. For those few minutes the two of them had been separated, he was sure of Ladybug's strength. Many times before, countless battles, had been won by her very hand; on plenty of occasions, Chat Noir had mentioned this to his friend, the fact that he felt useless when compared to her, although he never spoke these words out of spite. And yet, every time the cat felt the overwhelming urge to utter them, a deep regret would fill Ladybug's stark, heavenly blue senses and a no-nonsense edge would harden her usually calm and sensible tone.

" _Now stop saying that Chat Noir,"_ Adrien heard the Ladybug of his memories emotionally command, _"You know as well as I do that I could never do this on my own."_

The Ladybug of his thoughts and dreams; the masked heroine he had spent so many nights thinking about. The girl he had cried over the especially hard ones. How his tears would mingle with the sounds of the rain pouring outside, the heartbreaking crescendo within his chest that sounded from the idea of never truly knowing her. At one time, just the idea of never succeeding in growing closer to her was a tiny nightmare of his, a single fear which seemed to grow with each and every battle he was gifted the pleasure of fighting alongside her.

Adrien was in love with Ladybug. Hopelessly and utterly devoted to the disguised heroine, the poor sap had been. However, now that the young teen finally knew about the secret his lady had worked so hard to protect, the truth of the pretty face beneath her magic… he had no idea what to think.

Adrien jumped, as the back doors of the glaringly white van suddenly slammed shut. He blinked in shock, glancing up at the three nurses surrounding Marinette's body. Feeling completely out of place, the teen glanced down at his friend's form. She laid there ever-still, utterly unfazed by their constant prodding and attention. Her hand laid outstretched beside her; the boy stared with pointed orbs, muted by the actions of the medical personnel, as they hurried around the van grabbing various objects and placing them on her arms. A sharp needle penetrated her skin. Still, Marinette felt nothing.

Idly, Adrien wondered what the comatose female was dreaming about. What did Marinette think about when her eye-lids closed? What daydreams did she envision when she had nothing but her mind for company? The boy stared with a newfound pain entering his eyes, as the image of her form lain across the stretcher etched itself in his brain. In his mind, he knew that he would never forget it. Leering despondently, his darkened orbs roamed her body, and his heart gave a saddened flutter. Marinette continued to make no movements except for the steady rise and fall of her chest.

A voice that was conspicuously female called out from the front of the van, and a man standing above Adrien tersely yelled out in response. The teen could only stare, instantaneously feeling quite stricken. Upon hearing the call, the blonde-headed boy flinched mildly and subsequently winced in slight alarm when the vehicle abruptly roared to life. He gave an inaudible breath. The events were happening as if the kid was watching a movie; just a guy becoming swept up by the constant flurry of motion, and his form being projected on a screen. He was sure that this was the scene where he would be sitting beside the woman he loved, helplessly devoted to her dying soul, and holding her lame hand in a never-ending grip, whispering that everything was going to be okay. He'd let tears fall, as he called her name and said that everything was going to be alright. From that point, the boy had no idea what would happen in Marinette's movie. She would either wake up… Or she would never wake again. She would say his name, say it lovingly or with a hateful glare, or think that he had tricked her because he knew her secret. The shock stayed with him, the absolute truth behind the answer to her coveted identity.

Marinette was Ladybug, and Ladybug was Marinette. The two were intertwined in a special, magical way, just as Adrien was to Chat Noir, and now that he knew her secret, the bloke could not help but see the prominent similarities. They were remarkable! The way she would always leave and show up whenever he did and the way her excuses were consistently _almost_ as loose as his own – in the back of his mind, the handsome model felt like hitting himself. His incompetence was inexcusable.

Adrien _should_ have been able to place the blatantly obvious clues together; the confusion should have never been there. The boy should have known; _Chat Noir_ should have known. A mental red flag should have already been waving aggressively from the many times the cat had spoken to Marinette's curiously confident human side. In hindsight, the female's deep connection to Ladybug was palpably transparent, especially in the warm way she would acknowledge him. How her smirks had always seemed just a _tad_ too familiar, and how her trained movements amazed him, still to this day, as the girl expertly aided him whenever she was unable to transform.

At those moments, Chat Noir was destined to feebly wonder where Ladybug was, but then Marinette would be there. Her tiny form would scream out his name in a timber that was well known to him, and she would run forward, utterly unafraid and seeming to do the impossible, skillfully flipping around and kicking butt. The cat would always be floored by her; he was fated to be in awe of her heart, shooting his own like lighting.

Adrien felt himself smile fondly, albeit sadly, as he gazed at the form of Marinette lain before him. He remembered the memories; the jabs at his cat-like appearance, the secretive smile on her lips, and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. It was in those moments that the everlasting spirit of Paris shone in her heavenly blue eyes. The fighting spirit of his cherished lady was totally incredible.

Adrien paused, his eyes focused on hers in thought. The muddled teen was just now realizing how often he had seen them in the human girl. Her eyes were always so bright whenever she was not aware of his hidden gaze. Her strength whenever danger arose had always puzzled yet astonished him, and now he knew how much of a fool he had been.

Adrien was an idiot. The teen felt his hands begin to shake in trepidation and anger towards himself, as the realization of Marinette's identity finally managed to fully sink in. He was a fool. In some ways, it was moderately deplorable how seemingly dismissive… yet reasonably friendly the teen had been to his shy, usually blushing friend; nevertheless, much to his confusion, the flush had always seemed to only blanket her cheeks whenever he was around her in his everyday human form. Adrien made her redden and shy away, but Chat Noir… Chat Noir got to see Marinette's real side; her inventive, clever, strong, and independent side. The idea was queer, but perhaps the boy could ask her about it one day. One day.

Adrien had to mentally force his heart to slow down. He could not lose his cool now. The teen needed to be there for his friend, his Ladybug, and he would be damned if he was not going to support her through this. He would be by her side constantly; day or night and rain or shine. Well… maybe not exactly to that extent, considering he was still in high school, but he would definitely hold a large staple in her life. They were two halves of the same whole. The two of them were _literally_ made for each other, Ladybug and Chat Noir, as both had the qualities needed in order to equal the other out. He was the yin to her yang.

While Chat Noir could only destroy things with his powers, poisoning anything with the brunt of his Cataclysm, Ladybug could create hope and instill the feeling into others. Even Chloe, self-absorbed and narcissistic as she was, could not help but love the masked super-heroine, and the bratty blonde went _so_ far into her obsession that one of her favorite pastimes was trying to legitimately _cosplay as Ladybug and impersonate her_ , which honestly seemed to happen more times than the cat was truly comfortable with. Thank goodness Chloe did not idolize Chat Noir the way she did Ladybug. Blech.

Anyhow, to continue Adrien's previous train of thought, Ladybug was a star. She was a bright light in his semi-darkening world. After the bleakness of the teen's everyday actions, once night fell upon Paris, he would find her immensely beautiful and unwavering charm. Her poise was enchanting. Everything about her heroic persona was magical. The girl put off a wave of kindness and life wherever she went; thus, her light became unwittingly compelling. His lady's heart was wholly beautiful, the male concluded. And behind her, he would follow. Chat Noir would carry out his duties with his clumsy movements and a bad luck which seemed to only follow him around, while Ladybug would finish up the job, come up with the ideas – well, some of them were Chat's – and use all of her good fortune to ensure the pair's victory. She was a walking good luck charm, and for both Adrien and Chat Noir, she was _his_ personal good luck charm. It was a known fact that Hawk Moth could _never_ succeed while Ladybug was around.

Adrien soured for the millionth time that day, as the idea created a nagging thought in his head.

 _But… what would happen now?_ _Now that Marinette was out of the fight. Now that it was only Chat Noir, what then?_

His emerald eyes widened in embarrassment, as the sudden tenor of a voice caught his ears. The blonde faltered, and he stuttered out a nervous reply, "W-What, sir?"

One of the nurses merely grumbled noiselessly, before he tapped the chart in his hands with a pen. It was weird, but the lost expression on the boy's face made the operative somewhat annoyed. However, he could not entirely quite place why, but it made him gruffly repeat, "Her name. The girl. Do you know who she is?"

Straightaway, the word _Ladybug_ formed on Adrien's tongue; though, he immediately swallowed it down. Sliding his orbs away from the man's annoyed face, he eventually muttered out a small, "Marinette."

"What was that boy?"

At the question, Adrien steered his resolve and stared upward into the nurse's orbs, his irises brimming with a bit more conviction. Swallowing again, he hardened his shoulders and kept his shaking hands fastened resolute to his lap.

"It's… It's Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

* * *

 _A blank abyss; that is what she saw. The total nothingness was her only friend._

 _A twinge of pain; her face scrunched up. It was the pain of only forgetting._

 _The memories were falling, and falling, and falling._

 _She could not speak; she could not think._

 _The sound of nothing was overwhelming; everywhere there was a nothing._

 _It rung in her ears. It stung within her soul._

 _All that she could do was stare uncomprehendingly into the vast, thick darkness before her._

 _All that she could do was wait…_

 _And wait…_

 _And wait._

 _She waited for forever, and a mental scream broke through the everlasting quiet._

 _She stilled, and the memories went eerily silent._

* * *

When the emergency vehicle made it to the Hôpital Necker de Paris, all Adrien could do was sit impatiently in the immense waiting area. However, the first thing he did – after he was forcibly separated from his lady, _err_ his friend – was search for the number of her parents' bakery. He found it with a hollow heart on his cellphone and instantly called the pair of Dupain-Chengs.

As the click of a telephone echoed in his ears, Adrien could not help but audibly choke over his words. Feeling incredibly responsible for Marinette's condition, the teen let out a lengthy, shuddering breath. The image of her dead-to-the-world body still sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine; however, the blonde knew that their conversation was inevitable, even if the outcome ended up nearly destroying him. It physically hurt – the thought of thrusting this kind of information on Marinette's parents – but Adrien knew that if he did not relay the information to them, then who would? He hated the thought of them have no idea of their daughter's whereabouts until

A welcoming and warm tone met his ears; it was easy to notice where Marinette's happy expressions came from. The cheerful lilt of Marinette's mother's voice almost brought the poor boy to another round of tears, as he took in an incredibly deep breath.

"M-Madam Sabine?" his lips slowly stuttered, "I-It's Adrien. A-Adrien Agreste. Yes, I-I'm Marinette's friend."

Then, the male's green orbs closed, and he let out an uncontrollable sob. His form shook, as he bent down at the waist with his emotions seeming to crumble around him. The teen felt as if his world was breaking. He felt like a freaking monster; a man who held as much guilt if not more so than the wretched Akuma Tikki purified.

In his head, Adrien was convinced that Marinette's pain was all his fault. The sweet blonde, ever the courteous gentleman to his lady, was the one who did this to Marinette. Inadvertently, true, but her hurt was his hurt. The fact that his Ladybug was injured because of his inability to protect her almost sent his soul into a spiraling melancholy. He – both the truth of his human side and Chat Noir – did not deserve her. She was too far away from him; he was useless, and at this point he was completely unable to protect his precious princess. It was both heartbreaking and totally nerve-wracking at the exact same time. The boy wiped away at his eyes, trying desperately to calm himself down, as a concerned gasp sounded through the phone.

Adrien could already feel his hope falling in on itself.

Within his ear, Sabine's comforting inflection paused, before she tentatively asked, "A-Adrien, honey, what's wrong?"

The boy in question immediately felt his heart drop into his gut, and his throat became terribly sore. Taking in a drawn-out, heavily weighted breath, the boy mumbled a tear-jerking cry.

"I-It's about your daughter," he self-consciously admitted, and the sound of the woman's worried breaths made him feel horrible, like a villain. The blame was equivalent to the action of him being the one to knock her off of the Louver. There came an excruciatingly stretched silence, before he eventually relayed the horrible news to them, "T-There was a fall."

Not even a millisecond of time passed, before there came a horrible gasp, a few hastily exchanged words, and then the hushed voice of Marinette's father, monsieur Tom, claimed the bakery's phone line. Adrien could tell that the moderately intimidating yet totally kind man had moved up to the apartment above the bakery in order not to disturb customers.

Breathing with composure, Adrien listened as Marinette's father gave a heavy sigh. Then, he worriedly asked, "Adrien? What happened to Marinette?"

The aged man had no time for playful, happy pleasantries

This was the question that honestly broke him; this when the flood gates opened. Adrien sobbed only to himself, waiting alone in a large seating area, as the boy answered everything. How he had frantically ran to help her – how he watched her defenselessly fall from such a great height – all he left out was one big detail; their heroic identities. He could not tell Marinette's father, at least, not without his lady's highest permission. It was not his place to admit her secret, and he felt horrible for discovering hers. Still, through the dense confusion there was a small spark of giddiness to it all. A timid light to the darkness growing around his soul.

Now, Adrien knew of Ladybug's real identity, which was a miniscule reason to celebrate, but in the end, he continued to have no idea who Marinette was… He did not know the girl in her entirety; he did not know the shy but hilariously nervous teen behind the red and black spotted mask. It was saddening, and perhaps he would never understand her world, yet, in the forefront of his mind the male truly wanted to get to know her. He wanted to learn her likes and dislikes. He wanted to see what made her smile and what made her frown. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh – hopefully with a lengthy list of witty cat puns on his tongue – and he wanted to make her feel better when she was sad. He wanted for Marinette to know that she could count on him no matter what even if he knew her secret. She needed to understand that they held a bond that would never break, well hopefully, and he wanted her to know about him.

The model believed that Ladybug should get to know Chat Noir for all that he was. For all that he _could_ be, for he would surely devote his life to her. Friendship or love, Adrien did not care at the moment; nothing would destroy the red string of fate that was strung between them, the constant comradery and tenderness which came along with owning the red and black Miraculouses. Tikki and Plagg – their prospective kwami – were the reason for this, and ultimately, he was undeniably grateful. The lonely boy was happy that he met Ladybug and that he was offered the amazing opportunity to fall in love with such a miraculous hero. Not only that, the male had to admit to himself, but he was happy to have found a friend in Marinette's human side, too. He thought of the raven-haired girl as someone who was influentially quick, kind, and genuine; a girl who liked to be in his presence for more than his looks, unlike most of the people in Paris. In her summer sky eyes he was not just Adrien, the fetching model and lone son of the world famous designer Gabriel Agreste. No, the boy was more than that. He was simply Adrien, the only one in his class who Marinette seemed to get flustered around quite often. Yet afterwards, she would always turn around and treat him with the same compassion and generosity she would unremittingly give to all of their other classmates.

Just _that_ fact in itself was unbelievably endearing. The thought of it was incredibly refreshing.

Once Adrien knew that she was Ladybug, any normal outlooks that he had for his best friend and the pretty Marinette were practically thrown out the door and replaced with something else; an entirely new but immensely warm sensitivity. A striking sureness yet undeniable confusion.

Adrien knew who Ladybug was to him. He knew it without a single doubt; however, and he knew that he was probably cruel to even acknowledge it, he was unsure of what to feel about his new-found discovery. While he was incredibly excited, all the teen could wonder was, what is next?

 _What should I do? What would Chat Noir do?_ _How will Marinette feel? Will she hate me?_ … _Oh god. I honestly don't think I could take her hating me._

The sound of Marinette's father ending the call with a stressed concern had Adrien hollowly pocketing his cellphone.

After an entire hour of being alone to his thoughts, Adrien almost felt like giving up. Still, truthfully, the attractive blonde would never consciously abandon his prized other half. With his mind seeming to go back and forth and his head caught inside an upset whirlwind, the teen felt his right leg shake out of constant unease, as his hand on the same side clenched into a worried fist.

 **Breathe in, breathe out.**

 **Clench, unclench.**

A second hour passed, and now it had been a full two hours since Adrien was first torn from Marinette's presence; a full two hours since he called the Dupain-Chengs. All the miserable lad could do was stare downcast at his feet, until the sudden rush of hurried footsteps caught Adrien's attention. Still, he ignored whatever was happening, and pointedly chose to gaze glumly downward at the dangerously cold, stark white tiles beneath his seat.

A deep voice, borderline practically wheezing, forced Adrien to rapidly snap into attention.

"E-Excusez-moi, madam! Is there a Marinette Dupain-Cheng on this level?"

On instinct, Adrien's grassy orbs trailed the sound of the voice and gawked at the forms of both Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng frantically panting and gaping wildly at the head receptionist for that floor of the hospital. The latter merely gawked with wide saucers, mutedly gauging the distraught adults' faces, before she wearily moved to check the hospital's records. Her eyes seemed to somewhat smile when she saw the name and age on the pages before her, and she looked up at the fretting parents with a simple nod. Then, she told them to go wait in the waiting area with the rest of the patients' confidants – the room was practically empty – and the two turned in the direction she gestured toward, only to blink in sheer surprise.

Sitting in a stark white chair, leaning against a stark white wall, was Adrien Agreste with a pair of tearstained worry lines sagging underneath both of his stunning forest green eyes. Sabine was the first to run to him. She threw her arms immediately around the stunned, exhausted boy.

"Mon dieu, my dear! Oh, you did not have to wait for us, Adrien."

Though the short-haired mother said this, a few proud yet troubled tears edged within her dark lashes, "Oh, you poor sweet child! You must have been waiting here for hours already."

Right on her tail, the form of Tom Dupain-Cheng came jogging up from behind his wife. The large man gazed down at the thin gentleman before him with a concerned but warm luster in his orbs. He decided not to mention anything about Adrien being there; instead, he opted to merely apologize sincerely and say, "I'm sorry that we weren't here sooner. Of course the car decided to break down _just_ when our daughter gets seriously injured. The world is cruel like that, although, it probably doesn't help that I have a bit of a bad streak when it comes to bad luck."

Adrien's thoughts immediately replied, _"You have no idea."_

A mildly content but greatly nervous chuckle flew past Tom's thick mustache, and he tried to throw on a comforting smile for the boy. If anyone needed to be strong, it was him and Sabine. Adrien had already done his share of the worrying for now; the poor boy.

As Sabine continued to hold onto Adrien's form, she moved to rub a gentle circle into his back. The action caused a stirring of emotions to swell up within him, and a long lost memory returned to him of days where there was laughter and smiling. Those days when he was carefree and could easily look up into the eyes of his mother whenever he wanted; the sight of her flowing golden locks and evergreen lights were truly beautiful, and the wave of sensations hit him like a ton of bricks. The teen fell into her, his form physically shaking in the depths of her nurturing embrace. Hot tracks rolled down the two hills of his colorless cheeks. An air of protectiveness entered Sabine's dark hues, and she gave Tom a look from above his trembling shoulders.

The woman tightened her hold around the blond headed boy and sighed, comfortingly shushing his sobs. She could tell that the teen was taking Marinette current state especially hard, and she did not want him feeling worse than he already did. He was not the one who should be worrying, she and Tom were, yet here the teen was, crying passionately for their daughter's sake. Idly, in the back of their minds, the two parents felt a small smugness in the idea that if Marinette could see Adrien at that moment, unafraid to show so much compassion for her, she would become absolutely giddy with affection, before her heart would break at the pain he was going through in the name of their friendship. She was just that sort of girl, Marinette. Sensitive, considerate, and understanding Marinette.

"I-I just," Adrien drew in a shaky breath, as he wept into her half kimono, "I-I want to _see_ her."

Sabine held as tightly to him as she could, and Tom took a step in Adrien's direction, consolingly placing a strong hand upon his shoulder. He squeezed it as a proud father would, and the huge man simply held it there, willing the strength of his grip to fill the teen with some sort of comfort. It was all he could do; the boy had already done more than what was expected of him. Tom gave a caring, supportive leer, and then mentally rolled his eyes when Adrien was not looking at him. It was abstemiously funny. The poor kid had the man's blessing to be with Marinette, and the two were not even dating yet. He swallowed down the inappropriate chuckle that was building up his throat at the thought.

From his place in Sabine's arms, there was so many things laying upon Adrien's tongue. He had left so many things unsaid; things like _, "I want to see her. I want to see her smile, and I want to see her laugh. I want to see her seeing me, but most of all, I just… I want to see her awake."_

Sabine held the crying boy for at least ten minutes, before she tentatively pulled away and sent the withering blonde a motherly, soothing grin. He smiled weakly, his heart not entirely into it, but he appreciated the kind gesture. The tilt of her beam was exactly like Marinette's. It filled him with a calming embarrassment, and he unsteadily allowed a fumbling apology to floutingly pass between the three of them, "S-Sorry for crying like that. I-I don't know what came over me."

"Never apologize for caring too much, Adrien. Truthfully, the two of us should be thanking you," Tom waved a hand and spoke straightaway, "It makes us... happier than you would know to see that people worry about our daughter. Our little Marinette needs more people like you in her life, so thank you for caring about her."

Adrien felt an immediate reply bubble upon his lips, and he could not control his semi-confident jib.

"W-Well, how could I not?" a bit of Chat Noir's charisma managed to break through the teen's awkward fumbling, and he blushed scarlet. He stared in horror as a pair of shocked expressions similarly graced both of Marinette's parents faces, but they were far from angry. In actuality, they were immensely flattered. To think that Adrien thought so highly of their daughter - their awkward, clumsy, adorable daughter - filled them with an immeasurable pride. The two adults simply stared at Adrien for an unbearably prolonged time until they eventually gawked at one another, and broke out into a round of painful amorous chortles. Oh, this was hilarious! Marinette would be thrilled; unconditionally, extremely, and wholly thrilled!In his gargantuan amusement, Tom eagerly bent down and picked up the disorganized blonde, enthusiastically bringing his arms around the emotionally drained young lad and lifting him into the air with a strong entanglement.

Adrien felt small in Marinette's fathers embrace, but he did not feel uncomfortable. Instead, he felt undeniably happy and... welcomed. It had been years since he had truly felt this kind of belonging. The intense heat and sunny sensation of the love coming from her parents had him feeling downright dazed but undoubtedly content. Oh, if only his own father could instill such a powerful emotion in him! The lonely blonde was sure that the idea would be utterly impossible for his father. _Does he even know how to love?_ The thought had Adrien frowning, as he pictured the memories. They flooded once more with a greater fervor, and he stared up into the couple's unwavering eyes, the far reaches of his thoughts reminiscing on the love he once had; the loving embrace he once treasured so dearly. He missed his mother desperately.

The teen felt like thanking them, especially after the montage of reminisces. Ever-so-grateful, the kid opened his lips to say something, but the focused sound of a throat clearing made him to pause. The teen's hands tightened subconsciously by his sides. At this point, the boy was ready for anything. His fidgeting was nothing but an involuntary defense mechanism, as the three of them quickly considered the gaze of the short doctor before them. They each noted his wrinkled features and the stark shade of his hair, frazzled white from his many years in the medical industry. He gave them a neutral line of a sneer and asked, "Are you the family of madam Dupain-Cheng?"

Adrien blinked, but his shoulders sagged. Of course they would say that only family could visit her at the moment; that is what they always said in the movies. The dejected blonde had no more reason to be here. Looking up to apologize and offer to leave, the teen blinked in unconstrained surprise when Sabine threw a confident hand over one of his own and squeezed it taut, drawing the clenched appendage forward. His mind totally faltered.

What the angel then proclaimed sent an earnest and longing shock straight to his heart. On impact, the boy felt as if a sudden light was being gifted to him. He was astounded, and for a flashing moment, he wished for the older woman's words to be one hundred percent true. The teen hoped that one day maybe she would mean them; although, perhaps this was Marinette's mother's way of offering. Maybe they already knew about his home-life? Her words were not a question nor any indication, just a fact spoken clearly and without a single doubt. He could see where Marinette got all of her wonderful qualities from. The adorable duo, Marinette's father and mother, were practically saints clad in heavenly aprons, heavily decked with the scent of delicious cakes and pies. The boy should know. Tom was always a bit pushy when it came to him tasting his various pastry creations.

Adrien felt helplessly ecstatic. A relaxed water gathered in his eyes, and the boy was surprised, as he had honestly thought his tears were spent. He noticed how Sabine was holding onto him with a determined expression in her orbs.

"Yes," the conviction in her voice was dumbfounding, "We're Marinette's family."

The awestruck boy could say nothing, as Sabine tugged him forward, following behind the stiff doctor and leading him in the direction of his cherished Marinette.

* * *

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